The Bitter Pill of Here [poem]

Posted on Updated on

the_bitter_pill_of_here

Exhilarated by the earthy essence
of signpost tendril dreams,
along the seamless presence of
architecturally potent desert seas,
I ride the storm I manufactured
from the ragged engrams of my former lives
and formatively secret whys of early years
(which made the y into an f —
a reference to a phallic amputation)
where, with no real genealogy, I never grew
until excalibur at my own prompting
slew the monstrous form called me,
bringing into question my supposed insanity.

For sane is insane on this crazy sphere
(where even clarity’s unclear).
To have given up on everything and anything
which moves or stands stock still
encased in flesh (the bitter pill of here)
is the final thesis written in my blood —
though still I go through all the motions
of a five-card stud and smile and nod
from face-down in this fast congealing mud.
From henceforth, as a chasely shadow
of my former self, I track down only truth,
assiduously eating passion-fruit with stealth.

 

© Alan Morrison, 2014

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s